Dirt
by jacejosujura
Summary: Just when she was ready to run, her brother tied her to the land. But little did Daenerys know, the vow her brother made for her was her escape. She wanted to run, but he helped her fly.
1. Prologue

**Enjoy the prologue. This is and will be my only venture outside of Magic: The Gathering, but these babies just called to me! Feel free to follow me on tumblr, twitter, and Instagram at jacejosujura if you have any questions. **

_(Daenerys Targaryen) _

My brother has not spoken to me in nearly a month. It is like this between us, sometimes. He becomes obsessed with finding ways to restore us to our hold clout, but it seems impossible. After the loss of our family home and the accident that followed mere weeks afterward, Viserys stopped caring. Our parents gone, we were shunted from foster home to foster home until he came of age, just a year ago. I am sixteen and will be under his care for at least two more years. After that, I hope to break free, go to college in a new city, find my own way, and get our family's possessions back in the most moral way I can find. Find a husband and raise a family, leave the hurt that this city holds in the dust.

Viserys has never worked nor has he provided, so we depend on the state for most of our assets. He is far, far too obsessed with finding the people that "wronged" us and exacting his revenge. He has been ranting about ways to get our home back for months, years, even. But something has changed over the past month. He seems to have renewed passion and vigor. He has been spending hours upon hours at the local reservation, no doubt scheming with the natives there, who feel wronged by the power that be in this small town. Viserys thinks, no doubt, that if he can convince them to rebel, he can then double cross them and somehow exact himself to power. He is cunning, thinking himself to be like our ancestors, who were known for their intelligence. Sometimes, he takes it too far. He never has put his intelligence to good use, or tried to help anyone, which is what I think that it should be used for.

He descends the stairs quickly, interrupting my thoughts. I turn to face him, that same manic glint in his eye. However, he looks almost mad with happiness, almost insane with glee. Nothing that could make him this happy could bode well for me, this I am sure of. He tells me to get into our car, and I have no idea where we could be going. That reservation is my best guess. He usually leaves me out of his plans unless it somehow benefits him, so I am wondering what role I will serve today, and how he can view me as nothing more than a pawn.

"You won't be coming back here, Daenerys."

We had left the shabby apartment in the dust many minutes ago, but I can't help but ache for the home that I had, being stationary for any amount of time is something that I will never take forgranted after having so many temporary homes.

"Wha..What? Why, Viserys?"

"I have found a way to acquire our wealth back, Dany. To take back what is rightfully ours, what was stolen from us by those disgusting whelks."

"And what does that have to do with me? I want no part of this. I just want to go to school and make my way to college."

"That won't be possible, little sister."

"Why? What have you done?"

"Khal Drogo," he says, almost manically. "He lives out on the reservation, in the country. He is coming of age soon, and will be taking over the tribe. He has offered his help and the help of his people."

Nothing like this ever comes easily. Why would a tribe full of natives help Viserys, a scrawny, under-fed white boy with an entitlement complex? Surely he didn't offer to split power with them or to split our family's rightful wealth. He wouldn't. He is far too selfish for that. What else does Viserys have?

"But he had a price, I am sure, brother?"

Viserys grins, and my stomach drops to my feet. I know what he's done. I'm not an idiot. How could I have been so trusting of him? Bile rises in my throat, white hot and bitter. I clench my hands and close my eyes, waiting on the words. The ghost of a laugh exits my brother's lips, twisting the metaphorical dagger in my heart.

"That he did, Daenerys."

"And what was it?"

"You."

* * *

><p>The bright blue fabric clings to me, slinking down my figure. It shows off the assets that my mother blessed me with, making me look like a woman, rather than the scared girl that I am. Viserys had said that he promised my hand in marriage. What kind of older brother sells his younger sister in marriage? Besides, it is 2014. I didn't think this could happen anymore, or that it would happen to me.<p>

The silk was soothing, though it was the only thing that was. I glance down at my hand at one of the favors that I was presented yesterday. The band was hammered and the stone was simple. I had only seen my husband to be, never spoken. I offered him a small smile, and hours later, this had shown up.

_To match your eyes. _

Surely he would no longer wish to be my husband once Viserys told him about the accident, when he sees how it affects my gait. I'm sure he will feel cheated. I can't help feeling robbed of my own choice, but the papers have been signed, there is nothing I can do. Even if there were, Viserys would find me and make me pay for running. Right now, my only prayer is that this mountain of a man isn't what Viserys said he would be. _Brutal, a savage_, he had said. _And he loves horses_, he had cackled.

My brother had betrayed me, sold me to a man that I had never met. A man that loved the only thing that struck fear into my heart. Was autonomy so much to ask? It seemed that in my life, it was. I have never felt so trapped.

One of the smaller girls from the tribe grabs my hand and leads me outside, to an open sky. It was time. I can't turn back now.

Fear gripped at my heart, but soon, a gargantuan hand envelopes mine, a pair of brown eyes meet mine.

"Don't be afraid."


	2. Wedded Bliss?

_These first few chapters will be short. They will get longer, I promise. Please leave a review! I hope you guys like it. _

(_**Daenerys Targaryen**_)

I look at the dark hand that has encapsulated mine. This is a giant of a man, even more so now than ever before, because we are standing next to each other. This is the first time I have seen my husband-to-be without a gap of five to ten feet between us. His stature seems to be misleading, because his eyes are kind. I'm also not used to this, because every time I have seen him around the reservation over the past couple of days, he has been barking orders at other people in the tribe. I know Viserys said he was in charge, but he still seems to be getting his sea legs. However, he seems to be respected. I look around for my brother, and he is already standing at the fire that his tribe uses in lieu of an altar.

One of my bride gifts, which I had no idea still existed, was a handmaid named Doreah. She speaks English as well as their tongue, Dothraki. This is a tiny tribe in Washington state where we live. I never knew that they existed, because it is so small. These are my people now. I breathe in, hoping to steady my shaky legs. Why is Viserys here? He can't possibly care enough to be here; it all has to be some stunt to win over these people. I know what Viserys' end game is, but this seems a little much, even for him.

Doreah sees the puzzle on my face and whispers that it is Dothraki tradition that the brother of the bride stands with her and swears to be the uncle or the e-du-ji to any children that the marriage could produce. The groom is usually accompanied by his mother. I shift the silk again as I walk down the makeshift aisle, being stared at by people I don't know, to wed a man that I don't know. I pray to whatever deity is up there that my limp is not noticeable to these people, my people.

Doreah told me that it is against their laws to marry within the tribe, because they are all seen as family. That's why Viserys jumped at this chance, the chance to give me to a people that I don't know, in exchange for a way to get our wealth and prosperity back. The smoke coming off the fire is perfumed heavily. It makes my nose itch. I look down at my feet, but I feel Drogo's hand tip my chin back up to look at him.

I was told yesterday that khal is a title, much like "king." Drogo is his name. After today, I will adopt the title khaleesi, because once we are wedded, I will be one of the elders. Just like that. It seems quite strange to go from a quiet apartment in Port Angeles to commandeering an entire group of people.

He smiles at me before the chieftain starts the ceremony. My handmaid slinks behind me, ready to translate the words into English for me.

_Daenerys, do you promise, to the best of your ability, to govern the Dothraki people with a sound mind and a willing heart? Do you promise to be the calming presence to our future Khal, from this day forward? From this moment on, Drogo takes the position of the chief, the greatest among us. Do you promise to stand by him in all endeavors, be his confidant and his helper, his forever mate and the mother of many sons and daughters_?

I will my voice to not break, to be strong. I have to show everyone here, especially Drogo and Viserys, that I am ready for this. If this is what life has in store for me, then I will do it to the best of my ability until I cannot anymore.

_"I will_," I say in Dothraki; Doreah taught me the phrase prior to the ceremony. Khal Drogo smiles at me, smiles at me like he does when he's with his horses, when he's with his men. He takes my hands in one of his and kisses the tops of them.

_Drogo, do you promise to the best of your ability to govern your tribe, the Dothraki people, to many victories, with an able mind, a willing heart, and uphold the rule of law? Do you promise to cherish your future wife from this day on? From this moment, for as long as you live, you take the position as chief of our people, the greatest among us. Do you promise to stand by your wife, take care of her needs as well as the needs of our people, and be her forever mate?_

"_I will_," he says to me and then to his people, the same radiant smile upon his face.

Wedded bliss, I think to myself. Get ready, Daenerys. You've got to learn how to be a wife, and quick.

My new husband grabs my waist and lifts me into the air, sealing the marriage with a kiss. _That's not all he'll want_, Viserys' voice rings in the back of my head. I can't help but thinking that his hands, proportional to his size, nearly take up my entire torso. I smile down at him for effect and he returns the grin, puts my hand into his, and leads me to the reception in our honor.

There is a big hall where it seems like these things are held. I wonder aloud to Doreah why we did not have the ceremony in here, and she answers with: Everything of merit in a man's life must take place under an open sky.

I sit at the high table beside Drogo, who seems to be left handed. Because of this, we keep knocking hands, and it seems to make him laugh. I hope that such small things can continue to make him happy, until I can get my footing on how to do so myself.

The night is filled with much food, drink, and dancing, and just as the party is winding down, Drogo gestures to the floor in the center of the room, asking me to take the final dance with him. It is the Dothraki way, Doreah had whispered. I need to learn this language so I will not have to rely on her to translate everything my new husband says. My mind trails to what will, no doubt, be slated for tonight. I have no idea how to do this, I think to myself. I'm going to make a complete idiot out of myself and he will want to annul the marriage.

I push the thought to the back of my mind, and allow the khal to lead me out on to the dance floor. He requests, through movement, that I remove my shoes. I do so, and he lifts my tiny body up onto his feet, spinning and swaying to the music. He tips my head up and kisses me, slowly, softly, but there is a building feeling to the kiss. Something more. Prior to my wedding day, I had never kissed anyone, because Viserys refused to let me go out. His kisses are sweet, soft, and he tastes like cinnamon. It's a pleasant feeling, a tingling in my toes, heat in my lower belly. I smile into the kiss and so does he, a tender moment between the two of us. Maybe this won't be so bad, if I can figure out what he wants. I'm so scared, shaking, so Drogo crushes me to his chest and I inhale the scent of the pines, the cinnamon, and the incense from earlier.

"Da..." he stops, as if he's unsure of himself, too. I knew he didn't speak English, spare a few words.

"Ner-iss. Da-ner-iss."

He tries again, starting and stopping, always getting tripped up on the second syllable. It brings a smile to my face to know that he's not perfect, either.

"Dany?"

"Dany," he says, kissing the top of my head, our dance finishing.

There is a pressure—his lips, on the top of my head.

"No?" he says, gesturing to what has to be his house, our house.

"Yes."


End file.
